The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of
by blueEyes206
Summary: A snowstorm, a Motel 6, nightmares and our favorite couple.


**A/N: This is my first Castle fic ever and only the second fic I've ever finished. I'm not sure what inspired it or where the title came from, honestly. My brain is just a jumble of ideas, and this one actually had an ending for once! :)  
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"I don't know how we're going to make it home in this mess."

Rick Castle looks over at the driver of the Crown Vic, noticing the tension that seems to be emanating from her body. He's never seen Beckett like this.

"I thought this wasn't supposed to start until tomorrow!" she complains, slamming on brakes to avoid hitting the car in front of her that has slowed to a crawl.

"Beckett, are you okay?"

"I'm _fine_, Castle. I just don't like driving in a freaking blizzard."

Castle shifts in his seat then starts tapping at his iPhone.

"I just checked the weather, and it's only going to get worse."

"You have got to be kidding me."

An idea comes to Castle, and he opens his mouth to suggest it, but then he thinks better of it. It's too late.

"What, Castle?" Beckett sounds more annoyed than usual. "Just spit it out."

"I, well, I was just going to suggest that maybe we should... stop and stay somewhere for the night."

His words tumble out faster than he had intended, and he prepares to have his ear pulled for suggesting such a thing.

"Yeah, you're right. Let me know if you see a motel or something somewhere."

Shock might not be a strong enough word to describe his reaction to her reply, Castle thinks. Did she just agree to spend the night in a motel with him?

"Uh, sure. Right. Yeah."

* * *

A few miles (it feels more like a hundred to Beckett) down the road, Castle spies a lodging sign off the side of the interstate.

"Hey, take the next exit," he informs her.

"_Finally_."

Beckett isn't sure what's making her so unguarded about her feelings about driving in the snow. She knows Castle's going to ask, though, and she doesn't know exactly what she's going to tell him.

They pull into a Motel 6 somewhere outside White Plains and enter the lobby to get rooms, Castle grumbling that he shouldn't have said anything until he saw a sign for a Hilton or something.

"Castle, just... stop. Now."

Beckett can't help the tiredness that slips into her voice, but she doesn't think she can take his rants for the entire night. And then it hits her — the _entire night. _Oh, god. She's going to be staying in a hotel room with him for the whole damn night. What on earth made her think this was a good idea? She silently prays that the motel has two rooms available.

* * *

"I'm sorry, we only have one room left. People have been stopping here all night because of the blizzard."

_Of course,_ Beckett thinks. The hotel clerk looks exhausted, and Beckett doesn't want to cause her any trouble, so she tells the poor woman they'll take the room.

Rubbing his hands together, Castle follows Beckett back out to the car. "What are you doing?"

"I have an overnight bag in the trunk that I want to get. I'm not getting this shirt all wrinkled." She knows she sounds like a complete girl, but at this point she doesn't care.

"You keep an overnight bag in the trunk of your squad car?"

"This isn't the first time I've had something like this happen to me. I like to be prepared. Of course, I wasn't prepared for having to share a room with you, so I can't promise that I won't shoot you before the night's over with if you keep on complaining."

"Duly noted. I'll be an angel." Beckett fixes him with one of her signature glares. "I promise!"

Beckett slides the key card into the door, pushes it open and stops.

"Damn it."

* * *

After a brief argument in which they decided that neither of them would be sleeping on the floor, Beckett goes into the bathroom to change, thankful that Castle hasn't brought up her behavior while driving in the snow. Castle sheds his jacket and shoes and sits on the edge of the single, queen-sized bed, feeling rather fidgety.

He'd never cheat on Gina or anyone, of course, but the temptation of sharing a bed with Kate Beckett? He'd have to make sure he stayed far, _far_ away from her while they slept.

Beckett emerges from the bathroom, wearing leggings and a loose fitting t-shirt.

"I had an extra toothbrush you can use," she says, pulling her hair into a loose, messy bun. "It's the blue one on the sink."

"Thanks." When Castle comes out of the bathroom, Beckett is already settled under the covers. He hesitates before pulling the other half of the comforter back.

"You're really going to sleep in your jeans and dress shirt?" She gives him a skeptical look.

"Well, I don't have a change of clothes like you, so..."

"Castle. We're adults." She rolls over, as if to end the argument.

Castle slides his pants off and places them, along with his shirt, in a chair across the room.

"Goodnight, Beckett," he whispers, making himself comfortable in the bed.

"Night, Castle."

* * *

Beckett wakes a few hours later to Castle moaning. Her first thought is that she doesn't want to know what he's dreaming about _at all_, but then she hears, "No, please don't. Leave her alone! No, _no, NO!_" He's moving restlessly, and Beckett knows he's having some sort of nightmare.

"Castle," she reaches out to touch his shoulder, and he grows more restless. "Castle, Castle, wake up!"

His eyes fly open, and he seems disoriented for a moment, confused at seeing Beckett sitting beside him and looking down at him with obvious concern in her eyes.

"God, Beckett, did I wake you up? I'm so sorry."

He's quite sure she's never looked at him this way before, and he's having trouble interpreting her gaze.

"Rick..." The use of his first name confuses him even more.

"What?"

"Do- do you have nightmares like this often?"

Castle feels like the tables are turned in this moment. He's the one who doesn't want to reveal his secrets, and she's the one trying to discover them. He thinks about lying but figures he owes her for the many times she's opened up to him when she had every right to remain silent.

"Ever since the Triple Killer case."

"That was months ago; how come you've never mentioned it?"

"I don't need to burden you with my problems, Kate. You have enough on your plate already, and..."

She places a finger on his lips to shush him.

"Does _anyone_ know? Gina..."

He shakes his head. "Gina's a heavy sleeper. She's never noticed me wake up or anything."

"God, Rick, I... What are they about?"

"It's not always the same, but he always has Alexis, or Mother, or you... And he laughs at me because I can't save anyone..."

It doesn't go unnoticed to Beckett that Gina isn't included, but she doesn't know what to make of that.

She pull her hair out of its bun and runs a hand through it. "I wish you'd said something to me."

"It's not a big deal. I don't have them every night."

She lies back down beside him, closer than before, which unnerves him a bit. She takes his hand in hers and rolls over, her back settling into his chest. His hand, still intertwined with hers, lands on her stomach. A million thoughts run through Castle's head about whether this should be happening since they're both dating other people, but it's Beckett, and he knows her intentions have to be innocent.

They lie there quietly for a few minutes when she finally speaks.

"I have them, too, you know. On and off about my mom for years. But they were worse after the Triple Killer case. I kept seeing you and Ryan..."

She exhales shakily, and Castle squeezes her hand. Neither of them says anything after that, and he breathes in the cherry scent that is so uniquely Beckett and falls asleep peacefully.

* * *

Castle wakes to the sun shining through the motel room's thin curtains. As he blinks the sleep from his eyes, he realizes his arm is still draped over Beckett's waist. Somehow, during the night, her shirt has shifted, and his hand is now touching bare skin. He decides to move his hand before he can't control himself. As he slowly removes his hand from hers, he notices the dark ink of a tattoo peeking from the waistband of her leggings. _Curiosity killed the cat_, he reminds himself, choosing to let that part of Beckett remain a mystery to him. For now.

She begins to stir and rolls over to face him.

"I guess it stopped snowing," she comments, squinting into the sun.

"Yeah."

"We should get going," she yawns, rubbing her eyes with one hand and using the other to comb through her hair.

She pulls the covers back and makes her way to the bathroom. Neither of them is addressing what happened during the night, and she's not sure they ever will.

"Kate." His voice has never been so quiet.

She pauses in the bathroom doorway and turns to look at him.

"Thanks." His soft smile and blue eyes speak gratitude, and she knows he's never looked at her like this before.

She returns the soft smile. "Sure."


End file.
